


Working for the Weekend

by keelywolfe



Series: by any other name [8]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell, Alternate Universe - Underswap, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Prejudice Against Monsters (Undertale), Spicyhoney - Freeform, Underfell Papyrus, Underswap Papyrus, Undertale Monsters on the Surface, Violence against monsters, papcest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 05:58:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15382200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelywolfe/pseuds/keelywolfe
Summary: Stretch is out of the hospital and home and he is just fine, thank you. Now if he could just get a certain someone to believe it, that would be great.





	Working for the Weekend

* * *

Stretch would be the first person to say that he tolerated Edge's overprotectiveness as much as he could. And he did say it, loudly and frequently, and to as many bored people as he could get to listen to him. He understood, okay, he got it. Low HP, just like his bro, perhaps a little too careless about it. A little. More like a tad, a dribble, only a teeny, tiny fraction. Because seriously, Edge had to deal with his bro but Stretch had been dealing with his HP since he was fucking born, okay? He had a handle on it. 

Hear it, world? He had this. 

Still, he did understand. And since he wasn't a complete bag of dicks, no matter what Red said, he let Edge…eh…baby him a little. A smidge, a dab, look, do you want a fucking thesaurus? He let Edge get away with it enough that he didn't have a complete and total breakdown and start chewing on the fucking carpet or kids or something, whatever the hell people did during breakdowns. Whatever it was, Stretch knew sure as shit he didn't want to see it. Edge was a big enough pain in the ass without making him roll a sanity check every second Tuesday. 

So yeah, after the big, bad humans broke into New New Home with such brilliant technical equipment as a pair of wire cutters, and attempted a coup with barely enough people to play a pickup game of basketball, Stretch was willing to bend a little. He stayed in the hospital until the doctors said he was well enough to leave and didn't even attempt to escape, even though prisons in Russia probably had better food and the choice of television channels was more a low-level form of torture than entertainment, and he didn't give a fuck what Edge said, anyone who had to watch ten episodes of _Beat Bobby Flay_ in a row would spill the beans about their mom, much less petty state secrets. Stretch had been ready to flag down a convenient dictator and tell him anything he wanted to know, so long as he promised Netflix in the end. 

But hey, he took it like a man. A skeleton man. A skeleton monster man…okay, he was starting to lose the thread. Anyway, he took it. He let Edge hold his hand and pet his skull and once, one time, he let Edge give him a sponge bath and once was e-fucking-nough. When they got home, he even let Edge carry him into the house even though he was perfectly fine, thank you, and they have neighbors, damn it, who were already getting an unholy amount of enjoyment over watching the two of them. He knows, he's seen their Facebook. Seriously, he had a signed note from the doctor saying he could return to his normal activities and if it was good enough for the Government, it should be good enough for Edge. 

You can stop laughing any time now. 

Anyway, he had a couple of ideas on how to get things back into the normal scale of smothering. Well, not really ideas, they were more like theories, but so far he was still on the sofa where Edge had put him, along with the remote to the still silent television and a cup at his elbow while Edge was in the kitchen whipping up something for lunch that had better be an ordinary sandwich and not one that required an Instagram photoshoot, either.

He took of sip of his tea while he considered his options. It was thick with honey, far in excess of what Edge would normally add and Stretch would have enjoyed it more if he didn't know for a fact it was Guilt Honey, so named because it wasn't just Stretch's HP that was the issue, oh no, it was far more insidious than that. There was also the fact that Edge hadn't been here when it all went down; he'd been at the Embassy. You know, doing his damn job. And now he felt guilty about it, which, whatever, there had been a good chance that _Stretch_ wouldn't have been here for it. If he'd been a little more inspired to get up early that morning, he would have caught the bus and headed out for some sweet, sweet caffeinating at the Beanery.

Damn it, now he wanted lemon bars. See, this was why being stuck in the Guilt Zone sucked; he couldn't even ask for lemon bars or Edge would be in the car in a flash, a skeleton on a mission and woe betide anyone who got in between him and Stretch's chosen baked goods. 

Then again, he really did want lemon bars…

…no, no, that would be using his powers for evil and he'd grudgingly promised Red not to take advantage of Edge TOO often. Sometimes it was difficult to ride the line between too often and juuuuuust enough advantage-taking but Stretch was pretty sure that making Edge drive all the way into town for dessert was falling on the side of villainy. Stretch wasn't about to go over to the dark side for snacks. For one, he didn't have anything black to wear and Edge's pants didn't fit him right. 

He took another sip of his tea before setting it back on the saucer and…wait. Edge had left his phone on the table. Well, well, then, a little light treachery was still up for grabs. Stretch picked it up, swiping his thumb across the screen. Humming the theme from _Mission Impossible_ , he neatly bypassed the security lock and started poking through it just as the kitchen door swung open and Edge walked out with a tray. He paused when he saw Stretch with his phone, shaking his head with a sigh.

"Why do you do that?" Edge asked, resigned.

"if you didn't want me to hack it, you wouldn't leave it lying around," Stretch told him, because he was always completely reasonable about these things. He held up the phone between two fingers. "why did you save that?"

"Save what?" Edge busied himself cutting the sandwiches in half and arranging them on plates like it was a damn art project and not lunch. 

"oh, no, not a chance, sweetheart, if i don't get to play stupid, neither do you," he pressed play and his own voice came out, staticy and panicked. _"edge. there's humans here, i don't know how, but they're here, in new new home. it's fucking saturday in september, the kids are outside, they don't know—fuck. i need to get the kids someplace safe. stay safe, god damn it, i love you—"_

The phone beeped softly and the message ended. 

"you need to delete that," Stretch said, softly, "don't do this to yourself."

"Don't do what?" Edge said coolly. He was trying to cut the second sandwich in half, the knife was catching, and he slapped it down on the table impatiently. "Remind myself that because I was in a fucking meeting that I didn't get your call? That you had to leave a voicemail to tell me that Humans were here to commit genocide and I had to listen to it while I was in line to get a fucking scone? Is that what you don't want me to remember?" 

Stretch flinched as he abruptly hurled the plate at the wall and shards of pottery went flying, mustard smearing the wall and bread falling softly to the floor. 

"even if you'd gotten the call, you couldn't have done anything," Stretch tried. He had to at least make the attempt to hit the reasonable button before this got too far out of control. "you were too far away for me to get you and everything was over by the time you could have driven here. i'm fine, everyone is fine, babe, you're over-

"I resigned," Edge interrupted.

"-reacting. overreacting, yeah." Stretch sighed. Yeah, no, reasonable was probably not going to fly, the brakes were cut and they were going to have to deal with this. Joy. "no, you're not."

"I need to be here if this happens again."

"where?" Stretch demanded, "here in new new home? here in this house? because, no, you don't. the last fucking thing i need is to be tripping over you all day. i love you but that is asking too much."

"I can't keep you safe!" Edge shouted and he was breathing too quickly, his eye lights shrunken and small. 

"and i don't need you to!" Stretch shouted back. "for fuck's sake, i am almost ten years older than you and i'm not dead yet!"

Edge sagged, hunching over and covering his face with one hand. It was like the thread of his anger was the only thing keeping him upright and Stretch had managed to cut it. Brokenly, he whispered, "I need…I can't…" 

Carefully, Stretch took his free hand, lifting it from where it hung limply at his side. He held it between both of his own because Edge wasn't gonna like what he told him next. "if you quit your job, i'll move back into my brother's house." Stretch warned. Silence. "i mean it." 

His hand trembled between Stretch's as Edge pulled it free, moving to sit heavily on the couch. "I know you do."

And okay, no. Stretch scrambled over to him, straddling his hips. He cupped Edge's jaw in his hands, gently traced his cheekbones with his thumbs. "i love you too much for that, babe, you know that, right? i let you start locking me in a gilded cage and neither of us are gonna be happy."

"I know." A thread of sound but better than nothing. 

"okay. we good?"

Minutes ticked by and Stretch waited, letting Edge breathe and settle himself. It was cool, he was patient. Almost ten minutes went by and Stretch was humming the theme song to the Simpsons in his head while he puzzled through a few quantum equations, when Edge finally said, softly, "We're good."

Thank the fucking stars. Stretch was ready to bury this little spat and plant an oak on it. "great, maybe you can help me, then."

"With what?" Entirely guileless, hopeful, and Stretch almost felt bad for what he was about to do. Almost.

"i've got this pain—"

"What?" Edge sat up straight and nearly dumped Stretch out of his lap by accident. He grabbed Stretch's arms, steadying him, demanding. "Where? Is it your soul? Did you bruise something when you fainted?"

"it's right…here…" Stretch took Edge's hand in his own, pulling it down between his legs to cup his crotch.

Exasperation made Edge's eye lights flare but with it, ah, yes, with it was soft humor.

There was his baby. 

"A pain," Edge repeated, his tone dry as a desert, "You are a pain."

"that was weak," Stretch teased, then shuddered when Edge rubbing his thumb against the hard line that was pressing against his zipper.

"A pain in my head, a pain in my side, a pain in my ass," Edge went on, then softer, "A pain in my heart."

"sounds like you should see a doctor about that," Stretch groaned. Edge neatly unbuttoned his pants with one hand, easing the zipper down and Stretch wasn't wearing anything beneath them since getting laid had been on the agenda before the ink was dry on the hospital paperwork.

"The only cure is amputation and I'd sooner live without an arm than you."

"yeah, let's leave the arms. you need both…ooooh, fuck," Stretch whimpered. They'd done this so many times Edge's hand should feel like an old, comfortable friend. Instead, it was a shiny new toy every time, the way he circled his thumb over the head, smearing the soft drop of wetness that was beading there. The way his fingers gripped, circling Stretch's cock and the tightening pressure on the upstroke, easing slightly on the down. 

His other hand slid into the back of Stretch's pants, sharp fingertips scraping over his sacrum and Stretch choked, almost too sensitive, fuck, almost-but-not-quite pain, and it was so fucking perfect. 

Stretch managed to open his sockets, not even remembering closing them, and Edge was watching him, his own sockets heavy, eye lights hazy with satisfaction. Yeah, he knew this, knew that Edge loved giving pleasure almost more than receiving it. Bastard loved to watch him squirm, loved making him wait for it, but he was in for a surprise today because Stretch was in no condition to hold back. Back to normal activities apparently didn't include actual stamina and Stretch couldn't stop the little noises that were escaping from between his teeth. Desperate and needy, each one flaring in Edge's eye lights, and Stretch hitched his hips into every slow, tight pull of Edge's hand, trying to get a little more, just a little more.

The slick sound of his cock gliding through Edge's grip was like pornography and Stretch panted, shivering as he came in a heady rush. Edge stroked him through it, let Stretch come all over him like the filthy fucker he was, wet streaks of orange painting over the black of his shirt. He trailed his slick fingers through it and Stretch swallowed thickly as he watched Edge lick them clean, his red tongue curling around the whiteness of his fingers. 

"you know, i never did get a chance to do the laundry," Stretch said conversationally, ignoring the hoarseness lingering in his voice. No point in giving Edge any more satisfaction. 

From the smugness in Edge's expression, that was a lost cause. "Then it's a good thing I have tomorrow off."

Before Stretch could think of a reply that would knock a peg off that arrogance…or maybe take it up a notch… there was a rapid knocking at the door. 

"seriously?" Stretch groaned.

He hadn't even made up his mind to ignore it when it came again, sharp and persistent. It sounded more like someone was kicking the damn thing. 

"It could be important," Edge said, pushing him gently to his feet, raising a brow bone and yeah, even their neighbors would probably be horrified if Edge answered the door in a come-stained shirt, but hell, it might help them mind their own business. Stretch zipped his fly with a grimace and tried to compose his expression into something a little less, 'yeah we were fucking, what the hell do you want.'

He tried a hell of a lot harder when he opened the door and saw it was a kid. 

Stretch recognized him, the one without arms, and he had a brief slice of memory, of finding this child hiding in the bushes, his wide, fearful eyes as Stretch flashed in next to him, hushing him and grabbing him close to shortcut them both away. Of leaving him at the school with a cluster of other children, all of them huddled together as he asked them who else, who was missing, who did he need to find?

_(Yeah, that would be the feature presentation in his nightmares for a while; nice of them to be worth it, for once.)_

Stretch leaned down, then crouched down, then finally knelt so they were at a height. "heya, kiddo, what's going on?"

He had a small paper bag clenched in his teeth and Stretch carefully took it, freeing him up to speak, piping up cheerily, "Hello Mister Papyrus Stretch Sir!" 

Stretch grinned, "let's be informal and just go with stretch, okay?"

If anything, the kid's smile widened until he was beaming, "Okay! I wanted to bring this to you, for shortcutting me when the bad humans were here."

"hey, thanks, but you didn't have to bring me anything, kiddo, i—" he opened the bag. Lemon bars, obviously homemade, slightly lopsided and dusted clumsily with powdered sugar. Stretch looked at them a long minute, until his sockets stung faintly, magic pooling wetly in them that he struggled to hold back. 

There was exactly one person in New New Home who could have told anyone he loved lemon bars. 

Hesitantly, Stretch reached out and scrubbed his knuckles lightly over the kid's head, the same way he'd always done to his little brother. He made a happy chirp, closing his eyes and leaning into the touch. He swallowed hard and managed, "thanks, kiddo. i really appreciate it." 

"I made them myself!"

"i bet you did." Stretch's grin was probably as lopsided as the lemon bars. 

The kid's eyes went wide and serious, "Can I ask you something?" 

Great, there was a quiz and teach hadn't even given him a chance to study. Oh, well. "eh, why not. ask away."

"How do you do it?"

Stretch blinked. "do what?"

"Shortcut. Teleport," the kid wriggled in something like a shrug, "How do you do it?"

"uh, well," Stretch rubbed a hand over his skull awkwardly. "that's kinda…" Inspiration struck. "hey, tell you what. why don't i talk to your teacher and i can come to your school and do a science demonstration, yeah? it'll be easier for me to explain if you give me time to set it up. you can even be my assistant."

The kid's already large eyes went huge. "Really?"

"sure, why not. it's not like we'll blow anything up. or maybe we will," Stretch grinned, already thinking of a few simply experiments that would impress kids. Everyone liked explosions, even miniature ones. He wouldn't do any damage. Probably.

"Thank you, Mr Papyrus Stretch sir!" The kid flung himself at Stretch, who fumbled to keep from falling backwards as he got a lean that was probably the equivalent of a hug. With a last beaming smile, the kid ran off in the direction of the park.

"it's just stretch," he called after him. With a groan, he climbed back to his feet and shut the door, turning back to the living room. And stopped, groaning louder because Edge looking at him with a level of smug that no quip or pun was going to deflate. Shit, he was going to be unbearable for days, man. Whoever coined the term no good deed goes unpunished had obviously known the spiritual twin of this asshole. 

"don't give me that look," Stretch grumbled, setting the little bag of lemon bars down before he could give in to temptation. "i'm still not coming down to the y."

"Of course not," Edge agreed. His smugness level remained the same. 

"they require manual labor." He was not whining, thank you, so he didn't need any cheese.

"Indeed."

"and i don't care how fucking tall i am, i suck at basketball," Stretch told him. His knees were a little sore from kneeling for so long but Stretch sank down in front of Edge, anyway. If you were gonna bruise your knees, may as well do it right, and he had unfinished business to take care of. 

"You do," Edge agreed, cupping Stretch's face in one hand. 

Stretch sighed and leaned into the touch, mumbling, "maybe if you want me to do a science demonstration."

Edge sank back into the sofa and let Stretch work his zipper down. "That would be perfect."

Perfect, right. In five minutes he'd have Edge babbling about fucking perfect, and that, friends and neighbors, was the truth. He ran his tongue over his teeth and watched sparks light in Edge's socket. 

Yeah. There was his love. 

He could work with this. 

-finis-


End file.
